A Second Time
by CakeTops
Summary: Harry Potter, fiancée to billionaire Tony Stark had once been praised for his beauty and his brains until an accident takes his beauty away along with a big chunk of his memory. With a new face, Harry becomes Hadrian, an amnesiac determined to regain his memory. A stroke of luck lets him meet Tony Stark but with only his brains, can he get Tony fall for him a second time? Slash


**Prologue**

They met for the first time during one of Stark's infamous charities balls, Harry dressed immaculately in his dark blue suit and shining like a thousand suns. It didn't take long for playboy Stark, with his society-wide known attraction to both men and women, to take notice of this rare beauty. He approached him of course, because Stark wouldn't be Stark if he had simply sat back and watch. Harry however did not imminently fall to Stark's charms like so many others had.

Stark found Harry in the garden, introducing himself with a small bow and a joking kiss on Harry's hand which earned him a solid hit on his head.

"I'm no Victorian debutante, Mr. Stark," Harry said, eyes narrowed, "I'm my father's son and the heir to his company. I will not stand for such…behavior in my presence."

"I do apologize," Stark replied smoothly, charmed by this creature who seemed not hesitant to speak his mind, "A habit of mine."

"I'll be magnanimous this time," Harry allowed before making signs to depart. "Now if you'll excuse me…"

Stark hadn't wanted him to go of course so he did everything to make him stay. Jokes upon jokes were offered like sacrifices to an unsmiling God. Harry had tried to ignore him, but finally gave up after one particularly funny story about a camel sent him in to hysterics.

"You are a determined man, Mr. Stark," he said with a small smile, "I'll concede your victory for now."

"Call me Tony," Stark said, "Please."

Harry nodded.

"Tony then."

And that was that. The rest, as you would say, was history.

* * *

"What will you do if I'm gone?" asked Harry.

"When you're gone?" Tony Stark echoed in confusion, staring down at his fiancé. The latter was sprawled on the sofa, his head cushioned in Tony's lap.

He looked very comfortable indeed.

"When I'm gone," the young man grinned, "You know, as in kicked the bucket."

Tony made a face, unable and unwilling to even envision a world in which Harry was no longer part of his life.

"Are you planning on leaving me soon?" he asked instead, passing a soothing hand through Harry's hair.

"Of course not," Harry laughed, eyes still closed, enjoying the caress, "Morbid curiosity, that's all."

Tony hummed, pretending to think.

"Well," he said in mock seriousness, "I'll probably be running from your father. He did say he would hunt my ass down if something ever happened to you."

"Tony," Harry snorted, eyes opening and glaring at him, "I'm serious."

"And I'm serious as well," Tony replied and bent down to kiss him. The angle may be awkward but their connection was as electrifying as ever.

"Alright, alright," Harry laughed again, "I give up."

"Good," Tony kissed him again, "Don't say things like that ever again. You know you are my world Harry; without you, I'll only be a former shell of my old self."

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

Pain…so much pain…why was there so much pain?

"Are you ok?"

Someone's speaking to me. Who was it? His voice didn't sound familiar at all.

"Can you talk?"

Can I talk? I don't know. I have to try though. God, it really hurts. I can barely move my arms. Am I paralyzed?

"P…Please…It hurts."

"The morphine will be kicking in soon," said the voice, "Now, can you tell me who you are?"

Who am I? I…I don't know who I am. Why can't I remember? I should know right? At least my name. But I can't remember. It's all a blur.

"I don't know."

"It's OK," said the voice soothingly, "It's absolutely fine. You've just woken up from a coma. Give it some time, you'll remember."

"But…But what if I don't?"

"You'll remember. I guarantee it. But for now, I'll call you Harry. It was my best friend's name, you know."

"Harry…"

Harry. It sounds familiar. Was that my name?

"Harry," the voice confirmed, "Welcome to your new life, Harry."

* * *

 _ **Present day**_

"I heard today's your last day."

Harry looked up, grinning at Max, one of his favorite people among the 10 other waiters he worked with.

"It is," Harry said happily, "I finally got enough money to move to New York."

Max made a face.

"I don't understand why you want to go there," he said, "I've been there once and it scarred me for life."

Harry laughed, as usual amused by Max's dramatics.

"I told you why."

"Yeah, yeah," Max sighed, "You told me. You want to go to New York to work for Tony Stark. Geez man, why him? He's handsome I admit, but he's such an ass, especially after that fiancé of his died 5 years ago."

"I don't know," Harry admitted, "I can't explain it. He just fascinates me. Maybe it has something to do with my past. Who knows? You know I am always on the lookout for ways to regain my memory and something inside me is telling me that going to New York is the first step."

Max's eyes narrowed at him.

"But you do know that even if you do somehow get in to Stark Industries, the chances of you ever meeting a celebrity like Tony Stark is less then 1%."

"I know," Harry admitted, biting his lips, "But I have to try. I want to know why him and why that company? Was I an employee before my accident? Maybe he'll have records."

"Or maybe you just have a giant crush," Max smirked, "And you're just deluding yourself to make yourself feel less of a stalker."

"Max," Harry protested but he was laughing. "That is so not true."

"Hey! It's your fantasy. How should I know." Max grinned, "But anyway, since you are leaving soon, we are going to have to get together with the rest of the gang for a goodbye party. It's tradition after all."

"Aww," Harry smiled, "You guys will do that for me."

"Of course, you moron," Max threw a dirty rag at him which he caught with a grimace.

And it was at that moment their boss walked in and started to yell at them to get back to work.

* * *

That night, Harry couldn't help but smile as he laid in bed.

Finally…finally…after 5 years of hard work, he had finally earned enough savings to go to New York. His ticket was brought; an apartment was rented and he was one step closer to figure out the mystery of his past.

The big Apple, he thought dreamily, I wonder what it will bring me.

Whatever it will bring him, Harry will be ready for it. He could hardly wait.

* * *

Harry lands in New York just shy of 10, tired and grouchy, hair mussed from his uncomfortable seat in economy class. Luckily, his baggage had arrived on time so he quickly finds the exit and steps in line to wait for the taxi. There were 2 other groups before him; a mother of two extremely rowdy children who couldn't pass a minute without yelling about some thing or another; and two businessman who looks as tired as Harry felt. When the taxi finally did come, he gives the driver the address of the apartment he had rented and settles back for a long ride. It was when they had arrived that Harry encounters his first hiccup.

"I'm sorry sir," says the lady at 25 19th Street, "There's no Mr. Cameron here at all. Besides, this is a private house and not an apartment. He must have given you the wrong address."

But Harry hadn't been convinced that it had been a simple mistake. With feeling of dread, Harry enters the closest restaurant and begs for a telephone. The owner gives it to him and Harry calls the provided number and receives a dreaded "This number is no longer available" message.

He sinks down in one stool and buries his face in his trembling hand.

How could this happen to me? he thinks, What did I do to deserve this?

But Harry knows what he had did to deserve this. He had been too naive and eager to trust. Paying a man upfront for an apartment he hadn't even seen in person? Prosperous. Which idiot would fall for an obvious scam like that? Apparently, that idiot was him.

"Is something wrong?" asks the owner, coming over to check on Harry.

With a barely contained sob, Harry tells him the whole story.

"That's horrible," the owner gasps, "Some people are shameless in their pursuit of money."

"The worst part is," Harry continues, "I won't have any money left to find a new place."

He reaches out a hand blindly for a tissue and blinks when said-hand grasps paper instead of napkin.

"What's this?" Harry asks, blinking at what he had just touched.

"My new lease agreement," the owner replies readily, relieved that Harry was no longer on the verge of tears, "Go ahead and read it if you want; there's nothing new from my old one. It may even distract you."

"I doubt it," Harry grumbles but still flips open the document. He quickly goes through the document, surprised at how easy it was to spot any areas of concern in a 20 pages contract written in size 10. "I think your landlord tried to pull a trick on you. Here it says you agree to let him increase the rent 1% every month to compensate for inflaiton."

"He did what!" the owner yelps, looking outraged. He reads the passage Harry had pointed out before storming upstairs leaving Harry alone.

A customer comes in 10 minutes later but the owner wasn't back yet. Having been a waiter at his old job, Harry quickly seated the man and offered him water as he waited. Luckily, the man only wanted a sandwich from the display case so Harry quickly calculated the right about of money needed and charged him before offering him the food.

The owner comes down 5 minutes after the customer had left and Harry quickly explained what he had done.

"How did you calculate the taxed amount without a calculator?" the owner says in surprise.

"I don't know," Harry admits, "I'm just naturally good. How did it go with the landlord."

"He's rewriting the contract," the owner grins, "Thanks to you, I just saved a lot of money. You know what. I'll let you stay here until you get back on your feet."

"Thank you so much!" Harry exclaims.

Things were finally looking up.


End file.
